Page 67 of Tyrant (The Villetti Chronicles)

“Why would he?”

She rolled her eyes.

“He’s a dick who doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

I glanced at Enzo, who was giving Remi a dirty look through the rearview mirror.

“I see.”

I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to ask Remi what her beef with Zayn’s brother was. After all, I didn’t want to be at odds with any of his family if I was ever going to be with Zayn. The thought of it made my heart hurt. My hand went to my chest, rubbing at the sore spot. I was definitely living in fantasyland. I knew very well that Zayn and I couldn’t be together. Not when everything was stacked against us.

Enzo pulled up in a car park a few minutes later and got out. Remi unbuckled her seatbelt, prompting me to do the same. We both slid out of the car. Enzo was waiting for us by the front of it, looking bored already.

“Where are we?” I asked as he led us out onto the street.

“Chelsea,” Enzo grunted. “Zayn gave me instructions to take you here and I’m supposed to tell you to get whatever you want. I have his card.”

I may have lived in London all my life but venturing far from my home turf wasn’t something I often did. Shopping in Chelsea would be a whole new experience for me.

“Only the best for Zayn’s girl,” Remi whispered to me.

“I’m not his girl.”

“He said the same thing, but I don’t believe him or you.”

Remi gave me a wink, leaving me slightly speechless. I didn’t think she would be this friendly with me from the outset. Made me feel stupid for getting jealous earlier. I knew there was nothing between her and Zayn except friendship.

Enzo took us into a boutique clothing shop. He waited by the door as Remi and I browsed through the racks. When I looked at the prices, I almost baulked and wondered what the hell Zayn had been thinking, telling Enzo to take us here. Then I remembered he was Gennaro Villetti’s son and had likely also amassed a fortune on his own. He was rather generous when it came to me, something I wasn’t used to. I still hadn’t got over the fact he’d bought me an expensive camera and a few days ago, a laptop was dropped off. I’d started to edit the photos I’d taken of him. I wanted to get framed prints done to hang on his walls. The urge to stamp myself all over his life was all-consuming, but I couldn’t do that.

He’s not mine. I hate that he’s not mine so fucking much.

“So, anything you like?” Remi asked with a slightly bored look on her face.

“You don’t like clothes shopping?”

“Not particularly, but Zayn told me to take you out, so here we go.” She grabbed a beautiful deep purple dress from the rack and held it up to me. “I bet he’d like you in that.”

My cheeks warmed at the thought of Zayn’s eyes on me, followed by him bending me over, pushing it up my hips before he fucked me from behind with his hand wrapped around my throat. Shaking my head, I looked away.

“I’m not going to buy something just to suit his tastes.”

Remi laughed.

“You shouldn’t, but you’d look like a knockout in this, regardless. Try it on.”

I gave her a small smile and a nod. We picked out a few more things together before heading to the back, where the dressing room cubicles were. I slipped inside, hanging up the clothes and stripped out of my own.

“So, you and Zayn?” Remi asked through the curtain.

“We’re not… it’s not… we’re not in a relationship.”

“So, he’s just banging you, then?”

I almost choked on my own breath at her words.

“Are you always this blunt?”

“Not really, but Zayn’s no-nonsense, and if you’re with him, I figure you can handle it.”

---